Ipswich Flood Commemorative Service – 11 January 2012
Yesterday I had the honour and privilege of being one of the guest speakers at the Ipswich Flood Commemorative Service together with the Governor of Queensland Ms Penelope Wensley, Premier of Queensland Anna Bligh and the Mayor Paul Pisasale – it was a wonderful yet sobering experience as we remembered the floods of 12 months ago and unveiled a Stone of Courage.
Here is what i said – thank you for all the encouraging comments after the service.
“Distinguished guests ladies and gentlemen – When the Mayor asked me to speak today the memories of 12 months ago came back – sights and sounds i will never forget seem to demand my attention once again – yet for me there was one event i will never forget. It painted a picture of the spirit of this community so vividly it will never leave me!
Twelve months ago yesterday i stood in the pouring rain outside the church and up through the driveway came bus after bus.
Expecting families and young people to alight from those buses to stay at the church, which was to be an evacuation centre – i saw an unexpected and frightening sight.
Wheelchairs, assisted walkers all being used by elderly people from 3 nursing homes
Many in the bedclothes
Disorientated
Dishevelled
Distressed
Very confused
I then realized this was a crisis of huge proportions – far bigger than my capacity or ability.
To be honest chaos reigned as we commenced to find bedding food medication lost articles of clothing for the most vulnerable yet deserving of our community
Reports of widespread flooding were now on the news
However my thoughts were about these people who had to be feed once morning came
Wonderful volunteers arrived to help – word had got out
The night was long
Morning arrived
AND then it happened – the event, which gave me a window into the soul of this community and showcased its tenacious spirit
I, together with many others at the church hadn’t slept that night – we had found some cereals for the elderly residents but not much else.
A ute pulled up and a man got out – “Who’s in charge?” – Everyone pointed to me – if only they knew.
“What do you need mate?”
I said the first thing that came to my head
“We need milk – plenty of it – enough for at least 200 people?” “No worries mate – i’ll be back!”
I remember thinking to my shame – “Perhaps!”
Breakfast now due – elderly people getting restless – a ute pulls up.
Full of milk – “Where’s that bloke in charge – you know the stressed looking one?”
Again everyone pointed to me
“Mate – went to every shop, shopping centre, service station – here’s your milk!”
A ute filled with milk enough for that complete day.
He unloaded the milk and left
I still don’t know his name
No payment
No credit needed
No fanfare
Here was the spirit of this community in action
And it didn’t stop with my friend in the ute
All over the city over the next weeks
Individuals
Families
All nameless – anonymous
All there to help
No need for fame
No need for recognition
An army arose
Hoses, brooms, shovels as their choice of weapon
Generosity as their uniform
Sacrifice as their battle-cry
Selflessness as their only endeavour
Hard work their mantle
With our political leaders leading the way so well
This community worked together
A unity of heart and purpose
We cleaned together
We cried with each other
We supported strangers and friends alike
Race religion background or ethnicity didn’t matter
We were in this together
Compassion flowed
Hearts joined with empathy
Courage reigned
As this community
Cleaned
Hosed
Housed
Cared for
Fed
Let our shoulders be cried upon
We supported
We rebuilt
We agitated when we thought things were too slow
We stood shoulder to shoulder
We showed the world what it meant to be a true community
We said to each other
If you are hurting i hurt
If you are grieving i am grieving
If you need my shirt take it
If you need food it’s yours
If you need rebuilding I’m there
What’s mine is yours
No flood will take away the hope and faith of this community
The better angels of our souls were awakened never to slumber again
I have now seen first hand two floods – 1974 I remember cleaning houses with my dad who was the local member of parliament here and now in 2011 – I never want to see another.
Yet this flood changed me – it changed us all
So when it rains for a little too long and fear seems to grip me
When my compassion quota declines
When my neighbour starts to become a stranger again
When my sense of community wearies me and I tire of leading
I find myself thinking of a bloke and a milk filled ute
AND hope, courage, compassion and faith return
Those better angels of my soul awake once again and shout to me encouragement that stirs my heart to action
AND at that moment I know without doubt that I love this city
This community
AND most of all I love this cities greatest treasure – it’s people!”
The Story Of The Flood
This is an article that will be published in the Australian Christian Churches magazine Accent – I thought I would give you a sneak preview!
The reality of the situation didn’t hit me until a week later when I was explaining what, we as a church, had done during the recent Queensland floods. My listener, a nurse in an aged care facility, with ever-increasing shock on her face, then said, “Have you any idea what you have accomplished? You ran a nursing home from nothing. Who does that?”
It all started with a phone call. “Would the church be an evacuation centre for people in Ipswich affected by the floods?” It all sounded so noble, so worthy of a ‘tweet’. One hour later in pouring rain buses starting arriving full of elderly high care patients from three Aged Care Facilities who had been evacuated. They were disorientated, wet, scared and confused. One hundred and sixty five people and for the next five days and four nights they lived in our church facility.
To describe the next few days is beyond words. The old adage ‘you had to be there!’ applies. However imagine feeding, providing bedding, medical treatment, washing and cleaning these people for this period and starting from a position of no resources at all.
No food, no bedding, no supplies, no medication and most of all no experience. I knew we were in a little bit of hot water when the Red Cross representative who was supposed to be running the evacuation centre looked at the hordes of people arriving, then looked at me and said, “You’re in charge, congratulations!”
For the next few days we as a church had to source everything that related to the care of these beautiful people – many suffering from various ailments including dementia. Twenty four hour shifts of volunteers were set up, food sourced to feed not only the residents but also the volunteers, a medical centre and pharmacy established, bedding found, bathing and shower facilities erected, cold room brought in and volunteer rosters and meal planning created.
When I think of the volunteers from the church and the many that just turned up from the community and offered help I become emotional as I saw the church in action, as it should be – caring for the least of our society. Some of the volunteers including myself didn’t sleep for the first 32 hours as the enormity of the task ahead was realized and planning was urgently required. What had been achieved was the complete operation of a temporary aged care facility starting from scratch and reaching the point when many of the residents didn’t want to go home.
The Prime Minister Julia Gillard who visited the church in the midst of the floods said this in Parliament, ‘Pastor Mark Edwards, of Ipswich Region Community Church, opened his church as an evacuation centre and delayed the marriage of his daughter Gabrielle for a week, and tended the frail of three nursing homes in Ipswich.’
Yes – the postponement of my daughter’s wedding – well that is another story.
After the elderly residents moved out teams were sent from the church to clean homes and businesses in Ipswich. The church then commenced a food distribution centre, which is still operating today. Hundreds of food packages have been sent to needy families together with packages of electrical goods, kitchen and bathroom products.
The waters have receded but the work continues. Remember the city of Ipswich – 2500 houses fully inundated, over 7000 houses affected in some way and 600 business houses flooded. Our church was not the only church that helped and continues to do so. During this time the church through it’s people shone brightly.
And it all started with one phone call – an opportunity responded to and a need meet. All of us who were there will never be same again!
Six billion stories and counting …..!
Getting up before dark usually tests the mettle of our family – quite a few of them have no appreciation for the early hours of morning preferring to go to bed late and get up late. Yet there is one day each year that all our family gets up before dawn and seems to not complain. The occasion is ANZAC day and for years now my family has a tradition of attending the dawn service at the RAAF base Amberley.
This year was no different – there is something about gathering as the sun rises, hearing the Gallipoli story of 25th April 1915, listening to the ode and Last Post and seeing the laying of the wreaths to honour and remember the 100000 service men and women who have died for our country in wars and conflicts around the world. This year the crowd was estimated at about 3000 people – the biggest one yet for this particular ANZAC Day dawn service.
Yet something happened at this years service that caused others and myself who witnessed what happened to shed a tear.
Towards the end of the service the RAAF padre asked if there were anyone else who would like to come forward and lay a wreath or flowers at the memorial wall. Already the official guests had been forward – a truly moving occasion witnessed by all.
And then it happened. Out of the crowd came a lady and two young boys – obviously a mum and her two sons. The boys were aged between eight and twelve I suspect. She held the hand of the youngest boy and in the other hand she held a wreath of flowers. Gently she placed the wreath at the wall – spoke to the boys softly gathered them in her arms and hugged them. Then for a moment she just stood there – arms tightly around her sons. Again she whispered something to the boys, hugged them again then with heads bowed they made their way back into the crowd. The mother’s arms still wrapped around them.
I looked around at those standing with me and people were so moved – tears flowed freely. SBS one of our National TV broadcasters have a promotional theme – “Six billion stories and counting …” The meaning is clear – everyone on planet earth has a story. This woman had a story – what was behind such a moving tribute? Perhaps a lost husband, father or relative – who knows?
All I know is that I was moved to tears by the simple yet profound actions of a mother and her sons. One of those six billion stories – one action that made ANZAC Day 2010 special and memorable for me and all who witnessed what happened. Everyone indeed has a story and I had just witnessed part of just one of those six billion stories in action!
News that surprised me!
“Life is short – Have an affair!” At first I honestly thought it was a joke but when the newsreader seemed as shocked as I was, I realized this news report was no joke. An American company have opened an on line dating website for Australia with the caveat that you have to be married to register.
The promoter openly and quite brazenly spoke about this new venture as being for married people who want an affair. ‘Forty thousand hits on the website’ he says, ‘indicates that the venture is much needed and sought after’
As I said it is not often that you see a visibly shocked newsreader but clearly she was but not shocked enough to ask a beautifully crafted and probing question of the promoter. “Are you married?” she asked. “Yes – very happily”, he replied. “Then”, the newsreader asked, “How does your wife fell about this?”
Wait for it – here’s the reply! “Well she’s quite OK about it provided I keep my business and personal life separate!” Yes why don’t you do that – have a completely different set of values for your personal life and your business life. That seems to be an integrity filled lifestyle doesn’t it?
The newsreader’s stunned look said it all – no words needed just a look of disbelief. The newsreader and I agreed.
Yet it was my reaction after the story that court me off guard. Shouldn’t I be angry that something like this was on a national news bulletin – the company name plastered over the TV screen for anyone to go to the website? Shouldn’t I be livid, annoyed, irate, furious and downright enraged at this completely outrageous promotion and encouragement of people having an affair? Why wasn’t I up in arms?
To be honest I just wasn’t – instead I was deeply saddened by it. Not mad just very sad! I wondered if I, like many others, although deeply saddened by this report, have now become accustomed and desensitised to such blatant immoral behaviour?
Too many TV shows, movies, books and real life stories that resonate this behaviour as being the ‘norm’. Without me realizing it – my senses have been dulled. No longer does a righteous anger rise up but now just a dull sadness. I’m glad I saw this report on the news – I needed a wake up call. There are some things that are wrong – very wrong AND ‘Life is short – have an affair’ WILL always be wrong – very wrong. I need to be more than sad about it!
An iron man performance!
This is not a political announcement or in fact a political endorsement – so when I mention the name Tony Abbott don’t for a minute think I am taking some political sides.
However I just can’t help but comment on the iron man performance of the Opposition Leader. Last Sunday Tony Abbott completed what is regarded as one of the toughest races in the Southern Hemisphere – the Macquarie Triathlon is not for the faint hearted. It is a qualifying race for the famous Hawaiian Triathlon – such is the prestige of this race.
A 3.5 km swim, 180 km bike ride and then just for the fun of it – a full 42 km marathon. Now that is some day out!
Yet Iron Man Tony finds himself being criticised by Government Ministers including the Federal Health Minister. To be fair the Prime Minister Kevin Rudd wished him all the best on twitter – I know because I am a twitter follower of the PM.
Some of the criticism was that he would have to spend at least 10-12 hours per week training and he should be ‘working on policies’. Please what is going on?
It is obvious that Abbott wants to keep fit AND I for one am glad he does. He spends some time each week away from politics getting fit and doing something that obviously refreshes his body and soul – what a terrible crime for a politician? Tony Abbott has a life outside of politics – the shame of it!
It seems to me that the ‘tall poppy syndrome’ is still alive and well. Criticism and negativity is still easier then encouragement and building up someone. Why can’t people in the corridors of power see the positive rather than always attempting to score political points and tear each other apart?
Congratulations Tony for getting fit!
Congratulations for having something you love doing outside of your job!
Congratulations for setting a goal and achieving it against all the odds!
AND for all of us – let’s be mindful of the negative things that come from our mouths and replace them with words that are healing, restorative, encouraging, edifying, gentle, kind, loving and honouring. Reject negative and destructive talk – speak as you would want to be spoken to.
Who knows the positive and encouraging words that you speak may come back to you many times over – wouldn’t that be fantastic?
Happy 150th Birthday Ipswich
I am the great grandson of a Welsh coal miner who migrated to Ipswich at the age of 14 without his parents to start a new life. He did what his father did before him – he mined coal. He had fourteen children, one of which he lost in the bowels of the West Morton coal mines. His life was lived in the city of Ipswich.
It was the same for my grandfather who was a businessman, local councillor, Deputy Mayor, and later in life a Minister of a local church. And my father was an electrician, medical practitioner, and local politician of this city. With that heritage how can I not love this city? How can I not be saturated with the virtues of community? How can I not have running deep within my veins a heartfelt passion for the city of Ipswich to be all that it was destined to be?
I can truly say I am a ‘son of the city’. I am born and breed in Ipswich; I live and work here by choice. There is a deep sense of calling in my life that binds me to this city and will continue to bind me to this city. I have heard the stories from my grandfather and father of the richness and greatness of the city of Ipswich.” Once we were even going to be capital of Queensland”, I can recall them saying.
They spoke of the community spirit of the citizens of Ipswich, their uniqueness, their sense of tolerance, their ethos of hard work and a fair go. They spoke of the great characters of this city, pioneers in areas of business, commerce, industry and sport. I believed them and so I was raised with a vision of the eminence of Ipswich before me.
Yet I’ve also stood in the midst of this city in the desperately hard times. I have seen the woollen mills close, coalmines shut and railway workshops diminish as the heart of manufacturing was torn from this city. I saw families leave this city reluctantly as jobs decreased. I saw families, close to me, lose fathers, sons and brothers when Box Flat mine exploded. I saw how a politician played the race card and divided a tolerant city, despite the fact that within it’s borders 70 nationalities co-existed, speaking 90 languages, a better model of multiculturalism I have not seen. I saw Ipswich at the forefront of every newspaper and television news bulletin but for all the wrong reasons with crime and unemployment the headline. These were the desperate times and yet the tales of greatness told to me by my family caused me to never give up hope.
Sometimes however when I was asked, “Where do you come from?” I was tempted to whisper ‘West of Brisbane’ instead of proudly proclaiming ‘Ipswich’ with a loud and clear voice. And then it happened. There didn’t seem to be a set time for it’s awaking but the city started to blossom. Suddenly, not only its citizens, but others from within our nation and overseas discovered the beauty and hidden potential that was always here.
Now I see the potential of Ipswich flourishing. National and international business and commerce leaders making Ipswich their corporate home. Outstanding education facilities including our world class university campus. Innovative technology industries including an aerospace industry centred on Australia’s largest operational RAAF base at Amberley. A lifestyle so attractive that people are discovering the beauty of our city and its people once again. We are not Brisbane yet we are linked to Brisbane.
The story of Ipswich is not finished by any means – in fact it is only just beginning a new chapter. It is a chapter of hope and of a future and it is a story of the uniqueness and richness of a truly great city and the wonderful people who call Ipswich their home
I am one of many who believe the best for my city is still to come. I am proud to call Ipswich home.
Finished
I joined a training group for runners last week. Now that does not qualify me as a runner but my good friend Matt Reis suggested I come and join the group that he is in and the training would improve certain elements of my running.
So last Wednesday – 5.45 pm I turned up – knew no one except Matt and he hadn’t arrived yet so I stood around very nervously. You know that feeling – something new – know nobody – don’t know if you are even welcome! One thing I did pick up was the group consisted of serious runners – I mean very good serious runners.
Finally one of the group came over to me – then another – then Matt arrived. I felt safe! We all talked – then one of them said to me – ‘Remember you want to be there at the end so pace yourself for all the training – don’t go out too fast!’
We started – a 2 km run to warm up – followed by some warm up drills. Already I saw I was in elite company but there was a group of us at the rear and I happily joined them. Then the fun really started. The coach issued the first training drill – ‘4 four hundred metre runs – sprint the last 200!’ Fifteen second breaks in between.
My legs didn’t know what hit them. Was this all we did for the night – remember pace yourself.
Now 4 eight hundred metre runs – sprint the last two hundred – fifteen seconds in between. Surely I misheard that! Off I went – the pain was severe – my legs were not aching they were screaming agony – remember pace yourself.
Wow – I survived then I heard the worse thing possible – ‘OK 12 two hundred metre sprints and as fast as you can go the last hundred of each!’ WHAT – no there must be some mistake – aren’t we finished? I took off, the twelve become ten then eight then six – finally the last one – I was finished! I was in serious pain as I jogged the final couple of kilometres warm down. My legs were cramping – my calves screaming in agony – I seriously thought I would never walk again let alone run.
Then one of the runners who greeted me earlier in the night came beside me, ‘You did good mate – well done!’
I have seen many ‘shooting stars’ in ministry and life. Those who were far more talented and gifted than me but somewhere along the journey they stopped running the race. They went too hard, too early – gifting and character became unbalanced. Once again I learnt a lesson for life from running – too start hard and fast looks good but to finish is indeed the name of the game. To start is good to finish is divine. Next Wednesday here I come!
Ipswich
1860 – 2010 – 150 years – Ipswich the city I call home is going to celebrate 150 years since it, as a municipality, was gazetted on March 3, 1860. Now the city itself is older than that but next year the city will celebrate.
I am the great grandson of a Welsh coal miner who migrated to Ipswich at the age of 14 without his parents to start a new life. He did what his father did before him – he mined coal. He had fourteen children, one of which he lost in the bowels of the West Morton coal mines. His life was lived in the city of Ipswich.
It was the same for my grandfather who was a businessman, local Councilor, Deputy Mayor, and later in life a Minister of a local church. And my father was an electrician, medical practitioner, and local politician of this city. With that heritage how can I not love this city? How can I not be saturated with the virtues of community? How can I not have running deep within my veins a heartfelt passion for the city of Ipswich to be all that it was destined to be?
I can truly say I am a ‘son of the city’. I am born and breed in Ipswich; I live and work here by choice. There is a deep sense of calling in my life that binds me to this city and will continue to bind me to this city.
So there are now five generations of my family, which have lived in this city.
The Mayor Paul Pisasale has included me in a group to help plan the celebrations so I am really delighted to do this.
As I sit here typing this blog memories of this city flood into my mind and I reminded about that the bible says that God determined the times set for us and the exact places where we should live.
I am so glad that for me the choice was Ipswich.
The Race (Pt. 1)
The morning came so slowly – it usually does when you are really excited about something. Couldn’t sleep – just waited until it is was a reasonable time to get up! It was the night before the big race. I had been training for months – now the day had arrived.
Park to Park – one of the toughest courses on the running circuit – full of hills – 5, 10 or 20 kms of hills, hills and more hills. My first race – 5 kms for me was the aim – hopefully under 30 minutes that was the goal.
The moment came – lining up with over 800 other starters in my race division of 5 kms – talk about nerves. I was about 20 rows back from the starting line – trying to remember all the training – when to go harder, when to hold back – don’t push too hard up the first hill – when to push hard to the finish line – so many thoughts! Then it happened – someone was beside me in the crowd. It was my good mate Matt Reis. Because of the staggered start he had completed the 20 km – came 6th in a PB now the mate I had trained with was beside me. “I’m here to run with you mate”, he said – wow, I was so moved with emotion – my eyes filled up as I thought of what Matt was doing for me. “I’ll pace you!” he said. The gun went and I was off. “Slow down big fellow”, Matt said to me as I took off far too fast, for the first hill was a killer. I settled and ran as we had trained.
I came to the point that Matt and I talked about often – it was the point when I would give my all – about 1 km to go and I had to push it. I picked up the pace – everything was hurting as the hills had taken their toll. 500 meters to go – Matt yelled the final encouragement to me – if I could give it all I would get under 30 minutes. So that is what I did. I didn’t want to leave anything on the course – I know it is silly but at the end of the day I didn’t want to finish and know I could have done better.
The finish line was now in sight – I sprinted as hard as I could – my breathing short – legs aching – over the line. Nothing left – couldn’t even bend down to untie my laces to remove the timing tag.
Matt was there – 27.05 minutes – a PB – it was worth it – every moment of training that hurt forgotten. I had done it – 108th out of 890 starters in the 5 kms – 18th in my age group of 40 – 59 years AND I am 50!
I loved every moment of it!
Why did I love it so much?
It was one of the most exciting things I had ever done.
You know I have thought about my emotions about this race often since – tomorrow in this blog I will share why I think I loved this race so very much and why I want to do more races. Somehow I think you may be surprised at what I have to say!
A True Hero
I had never heard of ‘NORTHFACE 100’ until my friend Matt Reis told me that he had entered an ultra marathon set in the Blue Mountains NSW. It is a world renowned race covering a gruelling 100 kms with an elevation gain half the height of Mt Everest. The conditions are brutal with competitors from previous years dropping out from exhaustion to hypothermia due to the extreme cold.
Matt, his wonderful wife Bec and young child Lulu are in my life group and since before Christmas last year Matt trained. I watched in awe as he pounded the roads every day – six days every week. No short runs for Matt – he would run from Ipswich to Mount Cootha – well over the 40 km mark as just one run for this preparation.
You see Matt had a dream!
The desire of his heart was to run this event – complete it in less than 15 hours.
His sense of discipline was awesome to behold
Then race day came – nervous – of course I was – you thought I was talking about Matt being nervous? Well, no doubt he was!
Bec and I texted all day – progress reports – ‘How is Matt?’ ‘How is he going?’ ‘How far has he gone now?’ ‘Is he OK?’
At the 75km mark Matt hit the dreaded runner’s wall – yet I know Matt Reis! He kept going – for a short period it became a walk but he didn’t give up. Then the finishing line – 100 kms – not 15 hours but an incredible 13 hours and 37 minutes – 25th out of 400.
I received the SMS and burst into tears as I knew what this meant to my mate Matt.
Dream accomplished!
Matt is for me in every sense a hero
He is courageous beyond measure
He is faithful, honest and loyal
His pursuit of his dream was not for the fainthearted
His work ethic and preparation sacrificial
He is humble not self promoting
A man of few words but those words when spoken mean much
Many people have dreams but do little to achieve them but Matt is not one of those people. He has known what it is like to wake up the day after and know that he is one of the elite who conquered NorthFace 100.
I am so proud of Matt
He inspires me greatly
He is truly my hero
Yet above all else he is my friend
Well done mate!
A GENERATION LOST
I recently read Les Carlyon’s brilliant book ‘The Great War’ which outlines Australia’s involvement in the Western Front during the First World War. In his summing up, he says, ‘A generation had lost many of its most generous male spirits’. Then he quotes noted Australian historian Geoffrey Blainey who speaks about the worst effect of the war could never be enumerated – it was the loss of ‘all those talented people who would have become prime ministers and premiers, judges, divines, engineers, teachers, doctors, poets, inventors and farmers, the mayors of towns and leaders of trade unions, and the fathers of another generation of Australians’.
As I stand among the crowd at one of the dawn services tomorrow morning celebrating ANZAC Day I will reflect on this comment but I will also think again of my own potential – the dreams and desires that are still buried deep within my heart.
Perhaps as you read this you may think, like me, that I have the opportunity to achieve those desires and dreams so why aren’t I doing so?
You and I are not part of a ‘lost generation’.
I realize the term ‘dream again’ is overused but at the risk of using it again – DREAM AGAIN!
Make a list of the things that you would like to achieve. Write them down – start working towards just one of them.
We, unlike the ‘lost generation’, can see the dreams of our heart be fulfilled.
Tomorrow at dawn I will remember this aspect of ANZAC Day as well!
ANZAC Day
There are some traditions in our family that despite our increasing busy and independant lives, all of the family want to keep. ANZAC Day is one of those wonderful traditions – the Edwards family bleary eyed (apart from me none like early rising when they don’t have to) attend the dawn service at the RAAF base Amberley. It is dark when we arrive then the sun rises during the service – it is truly beautiful and attended by well over a thousand people. Then home for a cooked breakfast – I love the experience.
ANZAC Day continues to grow, in the sense that rather than less people attending the dawn services and marches across the nation more people are attending – there are even suggestions that it is now our country’s unofficial National Day.
For me personally it is a day where war is certainly not celebrated but a day when I can pause, ponder and pay my respects for those men and women who have lost their lives in conflicts that Australia has been and is now a part of. I am reminded of the true meaning of sacrifice and it causes me to truly reflect on sacrifice in my own life.
For many years now our church has really made the ANZAC Day weekend a special weekend in church. The similarities of the ANZAC Day theme of remembering those who laid down their lives to the message of the good news of Jesus Christ and His laying down His life is breathtaking.
The church also publicly honours those current and ex-service men and women and encourages them to wear their awarded medals at our services.
This weekend I am speaking on “Letters From The Front”- there will be some of the letters soldiers have written to their families and vica versa read out, a narrative of the ANZAC’s Gallipoli landing of 25 April 1915, a moving tribute to honour the spirit of ANZAC Day and then I will talk on what issues would be important to you if you were to go ‘over the top’ the following day. The letters from the front show clearly what mattered and what didn’t to soldiers facing an imminent battle where they could lose their life – through them we gain an insight into what we should be devoting our lives to.
Our services are Saturday 6.00 pm and Sunday 9.00 am – both will celebrate the ANZAC weekend.
Perhaps in addition to coming to church over the weekend – you and your family will get up early and attend one of the many ANZAC Day services held throughout the nation.
As will be said throughout the nation this Saturday – Lest we forget!
